


strawberry, matcha, coffee, elderberry

by cinnamonsnaps



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Gen, Post-Eleventh Hour, Revenge, Self-Indulgent, poisoned macaron roulette, pre-suffering game, some spoilers for everything, spoilers for episode 48
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamonsnaps/pseuds/cinnamonsnaps
Summary: In Memoriam: the Forty Victimes of the Tragic Poifoning of Glamour Springs.Taako catches up with an old work colleague. Merle and Magnus try to keep up. Things get a little funny, things get a little sad, and revenge is a dish best served stone cold stylish.





	1. wicked indigestion

**Author's Note:**

> none of the THB die because i love them
> 
> this was inspired by a comment on my video that said "what if griffin somehow gave sazed an appearance again" and i immediately thought of taako subjecting him to russian roulette but with poisoned macarons. fUCKing amAZing
> 
> warnings: fuckinuuuuuuuuhhhh poison, mild mild gore (canon typical violence), LOTS of emotional glurge, angus cries, let me know if i need to warn for anything else!!

Merle wakes up sore and ornery at some ungodly hour in the morning, and it takes him a second to work out why.

 

There are strange, organic noises coming from the shared kitchen in their secluded moon home.

 

His investigation check reveals nothing useful so he rolls into his slippers - tartan, and very comfortable - and hobbles into the kitchen, where there has been an explosion of activity. His footsteps leave gooey marks and there seems to be a lot of flour in the air, and on the counters, and also on the walls. The oven is humming gently, a candle flickers, and it may have been a very comforting domestic scene were it not for the hunched figure of Taako.

He's a dark silhouette facing away from Merle. Merle coughs. 

“It's... kind of late for a little home cooking, don't you think, buddy?” 

Taako appears to nod. The room is a little too dark to tell. “Absolutely.” 

“And I may be wrong, but it's a tad gloomy in here.” 

“Correct again. You're on a roll, don't stop now.” There's an edge to Taako's voice. Something harder than flint under the soft, mocking lilt of his usual cadence. 

“Well...” Merle is at a loss. “Okay. Goodnight.”

 

Taako just hums. His arms are frantically stirring something. It sounds like batter. Merle internally curses his own curiosity, and wanders over, quietly, to peek in the bowl.

The batter is light, fluffy and purple.

 

“Looks delicious.” 

Taako's eyes are glinting in the dark. “Tastes even better.” 

Merle reaches out a finger to dip in the bowl and steal a dab but Taako is quicker, and there's a vice like grip on Merle's wrist, and Taako is now staring down at Merle with a strange sort of smile and wide wide unsmiling eyes.

“I wouldn't. Eating late at night gives you wicked indigestion, my dude.”

 

Merle's wrist falls from Taako's grip, and he leaves, wordlessly, casting worried looks behind him as he goes back to bed. Some things are too much to handle at 3 am in comfortable tartan slippers.

 

-

 

On the floor, surrounded by scraps of blank sheet music and old notebooks, Johann sits and plucks out an arpeggio gently. The voidfish spins slowly in front of him. He sits here a lot, and plays gentle music, and looks at the nebula of dead and forgotten souls who achieved far much more and lost far much more than him too. 

He tries to play a melody. It's sour. It's bitter and sour and it falls from his fingers into the strings so beautifully, and he savours it, even though it's bitter, because he will be the only person to enjoy it before it is obliterated from existence. Johann gives life to music that seems to possess him more than he possesses it and later, he will be the only attendant at the funeral for that same music. 

There are footsteps padding towards him. Johann stops playing and puts down his harp just as Taako takes a seat, cross legged, beside him. 

“Johnathan,” Taako says, and Johann is too tired to really get upset about that, “I know it's kind of your whole, uh, deal, but I really cannot emphasise enough that you are, one hundo percent, the best musician I have ever heard.” 

Johann sighs. “I know.” 

“And modest too! Darling, you're a package deal wrapped up in a tragic little bundle.” 

“Taako, why are you... here?” Johann squints at the voidfish. It does not say anything back. 

“That's a little metaphysical and may take some time to delve into, but I'm willing to indulge you. So, let's start with the concept of birth-” 

“No, I mean. Why are you visiting me? Does the Director want me?” 

“Heavens no. This is just a little personal business. Maybe I have a little soft spot for good music and spooky, aquatic ambiance. Maybe I have an appreciation for independent music producers such as yourself.” 

Johann pauses, heart fluttering. “Do you?” 

“No. I mean- sure, of course. I always wanted to maybe start a little - I don't know, patronage, sponsorship if you will, for the fine arts. Sort of a little pot of money for artists who produced things that really appealed to me. I was thinking of starting out maybe with food performance- but I digress.” Taako leans in close, trailing a finger over the harp and letting out an atonal but pleasing strum. “You really are a wonderful musician.” 

Johann frowns. “Does the Director need more sheet music? I thought-”

Taako shakes his head. “No, no, nothing like that. It's a shame, isn't it. All that lovely work being eaten up by a hungry fish. It breaks my heart.” 

While he sounds slightly sincere, he doesn't come close to matching how Johann feels, how broken hearted. Johann shrugs. “It's a living.” 

“Cool. Now, I am a little curious. Do you ever recycle tunes?” 

Johann frowns deeper. “No. Well, not intentionally. Each piece is unique. That's how it works. It has to be unique.” 

Taako hums. “Of course, but Jordan, there are only so many notes in a musical scale I presume. So there must be one or two instances where there are two pieces of music that are very very similar - maybe even the same, in human history.” 

“I - I guess. I mean, there are some chord sequences which are really popular, like the I/IV/V pattern or-” 

“You're saying letters at me, I get the gist, complicated music stuff. But I was wondering about the voidfish, and the _rules_ of giving it stuff to eat. Have you ever tried to feed it the same piece twice?” 

“No.” 

“Damn. Because my next question was - what happens if you try and feed it a piece that was too similar to another piece you've already fed it?” 

“What?” Johann can feel his grasp on the conversation slipping slightly. 

“I mean - if you made a song using a melody, and then you made another song using that melody but changed like a note. How similar do the melodies have to be before they count as the same one?” 

“Gods, that's kind of- wow, that's a real thought experiment huh,” Johann breathes, mulling it over. “I would say that changing one note makes it a whole new melody but that opens up a whole new bushel of problems, like uh, like whether songs are made of one melody slightly changed or lots of different ones, and whether- shit, Taako, that's a hard question.” 

“I know.” Taako leans back, face expressionless. “And what if you start applying it to other stuff? Like words?” 

“Words?” 

“Yeah. Sentences. If you wrote 'fuck you’ on a piece of paper and slipped it in, would nobody ever remember saying that phrase? What if you tried again but with 'phuck you’? That's with a ph, by the way, because I know speech is an audio format. Would people be able to say it in the future? Is it gone forever?” 

“Taako-” 

“What if it were more specific?”

 

Johann glances at Taako’s profile, taking in the long nose, the lips in a half-smirk that doesn't reach his eyes, which stare unmoving and determined at the voidfish.

 

“You're going to do something, aren't you. You're planning something.” 

“No idea what you're talking about, dude,” Taako says cheerfully, as if he doesn't care if the deception check passes or not. “Where do you feed the voidfish?” 

“There's a little hatch, or I guess you could just drop it in the top of the tank-” 

“Jorge, listen, me and the voidfish have some very private and personal information to discuss which I'm going to need you to turn around for and absolutely not look at me. Just turn around right here-” and Taako is pushing at Johann's shoulder “- and stare at this wall -” and Johann notices, crumpled in Taako's hand, a piece of paper “- because when I'm finished I'm either going to be extremely crying or extremely horny and you don't want to see any of that ever, right?” 

“You're going to put something in the tank, aren't you. Taako you can't just - you have to get it authorised by the Director, we don't know what's going to happen if you try something like that, I won't-” 

“I will not hesitate to waste a spell slot on you!” Taako yells, half laughing, half serious. “Turn around maestro before I snap your harp in half!”

 

Johann gathers the harp to him hurriedly and holds it close to his chest. He faces the wall. 

“Excellent,” Taako breathes out.

 

It takes about two minutes. There's the noise of Taako ascending to the top of the tank, the mechanical swivel of his struggle with the hatch, a quiet rustle of paper. Johann waits. With the faintest sploosh, the deed is done. He shivers. He doesn't get paid enough to be held so accountable for a possible Keter level threat to international linguistics.

 

After four minutes of silence, Johann hesitantly turns around, still clinging on to his harp, but Taako is gone.

 

What was he going to do - say no to a Reclaimer? Johann knew that he wouldn't win a fight against a level whatever wizard with a sadistic streak. Although, he realises something, playing the same bitter melody from before. 

He can now save this particular music piece from oblivion for one more day.

 

-

 

“Lucretia - may I call you Lucretia?” 

“No.” 

“Madame Director, I need a day off. No, hold on, make that two days off.” 

The Director sits forward in her chair, her eyebrow raised. “Are weekends not enough already?” 

Taako rolls his eyes and waggles his fingers at her, slouching like she just told him to tuck in his shirt. “Oh come on. I just need a day - how about tomorrow? - to go down to the ground and, I don't know, sunbathe or something. Visit my dead grandmother.” 

“Well, we do allow two days off a year for grandmothers’ funerals,” the Director conceded. “Avi has taken out five of those so far this year. We're trying to tighten up on truancy.” 

“Maybe he just has a big family,” Taako says. “Just two days. I'll be back Thursday on the dot. Spick and span.” 

“I can't authorise this. It's dangerous to leave the moon too often - if every employee went planetside every weekend, there would be an awful lot of flying glass balls in the sky and a lot more awkward questions about where they're coming from. You see my position, don't you?” 

Taako nods. “I see it, and frankly I don't care. I'm a _Reclaimer_ . I do 30% of all the _real_ work around here, wait, 40% if you factor in Merle. I have a 100% success rate on getting Relics back, if you think about it. I'm a model employee! I'm fantastic!” 

The Director’s eyebrow twitches. “Well, I won't argue with that, I suppose. But I can't give you special treatment -” 

“Yes you can! You're the Director. You specifically _can_ do that. It's your job.” 

“- my final answer is no, Taako. I need you, Magnus and Merle right here. I know it's difficult, but these are extenuating circumstances. It will have to wait.”

 

Taako examines his long nails. The Director winces when she sees just how much dirt and grime is lodged under them.

 

“Well then. I guess it sure would be a shame if, oh, one third of the Reclaimers went on strike. Wouldn't it.” 

The Director sputters. “You can't go on strike.”

 

Taako just raises an eyebrow.

 

“You're not - doing an ordinary job up here. Finding those relics means life or death to- to entire cities of people. Innocent people. You can't go on strike. Would you really want to let thousands of innocent civilians die?” 

A nail snaps. Taako swears violently but collects himself, face a mask. “Guess that depends on you, ma’am. Just one day off, or lots of death. Ball’s in your court baby.” 

“You don't mean that.” Taako doesn't say anything. The Director sighs. “Fine. You have a day down on Faerûn. But stay safe, please? We need you up here.” The Director looks at Taako, and Taako avoids her gaze, standing up and flouncing out of the office. “Don't do anything dangerous or stupid!” she calls behind him. 

 

She knows he will anyway.

 

Looking up at the lonely portrait behind her back, her eyes affix on an empty space below her painted, graceful hand. 

“As willful as always,” she mutters, but it almost sounds fond.

 

-

 

Magnus pauses outside of Taako's room, stopped by the purr of Taako's voice in conversation with an unseen participant. He isn't nosy, but. Well. He's a little nosy.

 

“C'mon, bonedaddy, just a little favour. I promise I'll repay you. Remember, lots of tasty young souls? Mmm mm yummy souls, hot and fresh out the kitchen?” 

Magnus frowns as the non-cockneyed voice of Kravitz sounds out, tinny and distorted, from Taako's stone of farspeech. “I keep telling you, that's not how it works. I don't eat them.” 

“What about if I don't kill as many people on our next mission?” 

“The amount of people you do or do not kill doesn't change the fact that you're asking me to do an illegal thing. It's illegal. Not allowed.”

 

Magnus’ eyes widen and he presses his ear harder against the door.

 

“Oh come oooooon Krav, baby. It's just a little thing. One little person. I just need to find out where they are, that's all!” 

“I wish I could help you, but my hands are tied here. My boss wouldn't... appreciate me misusing company property.” 

“Hands tied, huh?” Taako hums thoughtfully. “What if I were to...”

 

His voice drops to a sultry whisper that Magnus, maybe thankfully, can't hear, interjected by Kravitz gasping and letting out short jerks of incredulous laughter.

 

“Taako- Taako, stop! Taako that’s- is that even physically possible? No, stop stop stop STOP.” 

Taako stops.

 

“That... was a lot to unpack and I'm not saying that under different circumstances, I wouldn't have been a little intrigued, if scared, by your offer, but. I can't. I simply can't. This isn't up for debate. I don't even have a say in it. This is something the Raven Queen has expressly forbidden. I can't-”

 

There's silence. Magnus assumes Taako has hung up the stone.

 

Then, suddenly, there's the sound of something hitting the wall with a dull thud. Then something else, then the whole room is echoing with crashes and thumps and of course he has to, of course Magnus launches himself through the door with a “Taako, are you okay-!” 

Taako whirls around and stares at Magnus, eyes red, chair leg in hand. He throws it at him - god, he just makes the dexterity saving throw and it brushes past his side burns - and it hits a wall. 

“I summon,” Taako yells, voice hoarse, “Evard's Black Tentacles.”

 

Sometimes, Magnus rushes out.


	2. podunk one horse town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i love avi. i am avi. bless avi
> 
> catch me at janecrockeyre dottumblrdotcom  
> also my youtube which is [here my dudes](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCFrNd3dKhiTpOmBJaOVPV2Q) where i make taz stuff
> 
> i love???? avi

By the time Angus comes to Magnus and Merle, the two are beginning to worry about Taako. Everybody is beginning to worry about Taako, or at least, more than usual.

 

Merle and Magnus both let out quiet groans as Angus screeches to a stop before them.

 

“Taako's gone,” Angus gasps out, clearly having run at top speed from wherever he came. “I asked the Director and she told me he had a day off today, apparently, and I'm an excellent sleuth but I don't think he's gone down for some rest and relaxation because he hasn't gone to Neverwinter, but Avi won't tell me where!” 

“How long has he been gone for?” Magnus says, and Angus looks nervous. 

“Seven this morning, I think. My main witnesses saw him as they were having breakfast in the mess room. Avi told me he launched Taako somewhere in Faerûn but he wouldn't tell me where exactly.” 

Merle hums, scratching his beard with his gnarled wooden hand. “How do you know he hasn't just gone to see his family? Wait... does Taako have family?” 

“No sirs, not that I know of,” Angus says. “I had initially thought that too but he took a big bag with him. I interviewed a few witnesses and they all saw him carrying a sleeping roll and several bottles of alcohol.” 

Magnus rubs his chin. “Maybe he’s going to a party.” 

“Hey!” Merle frowns. “Why didn't he invite us?” 

“He was trying to be sneaky, sirs. I don't think he'd sneak out to a party.” Angus looks up at them both with all the worried anguish of a ten year old with far too much intelligence on his hands. “Maybe Avi will tell you more because both of you are really old.” 

“Hey-!” Magnus and Merle both say, but Angus is running off down the hall and they have no choice but to follow.

 

-

 

Avi is standing by the mechanism for launching balls into the atmosphere with a big, dopey smile on his face when the trio run into the launching hall.

 

“Oh, hey,” he says, giving them all a friendly wave. 

“Hey Avi,” Magnus says, raising a hand in salute. Avi giggles like a giddy schoolgirl, which is a little disconcerting when it's coming from a tall, well muscled dude who clearly skips leg day. 

“Avi, did Taako come through here today?” Merle asks, and Avi’s dark skin blushes, hard. 

“Kinda,” he replies. “Hey, wow, he looked amazing can I just say that? He wasn't wearing a skirt today but his legs still looked incredible and maybe I should wear a skirt too?” 

Merle glances at Avi's legs. “You could work it. Hey, did Taako mention anything about where he was going?” 

“Super not supposed to say,” Avi replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kind of a secret between us. A bro secret. Can't tell you.” There's a small pause. “Do you think Taako likes flowers?”

 

Magnus shares a look with Merle. Without exchanging words, Merle quickly does an arcana check. He squints at Avi before whispering “charm person, for sure” at Magnus. 

 

Magnus squints at Avi as well. “Could you at least hint where he's gone? Because we're your bros too?” 

Avi looks torn. “God. Yeah. You guys are my bros? Oh wow, that's fuckin’ sweet. Oh god. You guys are so cool. But I have to lie to you, I'm sorry. Taako told me to.” 

Magnus whispers, “looks like Taako got some godly rolls for this spell”, and Merle waggles his eyebrows, whispering back: “godly, you say?”

 

Avi doesn't notice the surreptitious zone of truth when it hits him like a truck right to the face.

 

“So-” Merle begins, but immediately Avi interrupts him with “oh god I have a crush on everybody here and I'm suddenly so compelled to say it out loud. I'm just going to say it. Everyone on the moon is hot.” 

“That- well-” Merle tries to recover. “Okay, I-” 

“Where did Taako go?” Magnus grabs Avi's shoulders. 

Avi stares at his shoulders. “You have big, strong hands. They should hold my hands.” 

“Avi!” 

“Sorry. Um. He got in a ball and I launched him to these coordinates I'd never heard of before. Some backwards town in the middle of nowhere. Shit, I wasn't supposed to say that!” Avi looks stricken. “I’ve upset Taako. I'm so sorry.” 

Merle steps forward and pats Avi on the chest - the highest he can reach. “We're looking for Taako because we're worried about him. You did a very good thing, uh.” It's clear he's managed to forget Avi's name. “Champ.” 

Avi’s eyes sparkle. “Will you be my dad?” 

“IT'S TIME TO GO,” Magnus yells, and he and Merle bundle into a ball together. “Throw us where you threw Taako, Avi. C'mon, be cool and help out your friends - Taako could be in danger!” 

Dazed, Avi nods with little resistance and starts setting up the ball. Angus tries to climb into the ball but Magnus shakes his head and tousles his hair in a vaguely annoying way. 

“We need you up here. Kind of like our eye in the sky, you know? You could search his room or- oh, oh no.” 

Angus has started crying silently. He wipes his sleeve along his eyes and lets out an involuntary sob. “I'm sorry. It's just. Do you. Do you think he's g-gone forever?” 

Merle swears quietly, but joins Magnus in tousling his hair. “Don't worry, kid. He... don't tell him I said this. But I think the idiot has gone and caught feelings about you Angus. I think he really cares about you. I bet he's just gone to the surface for some kind of errand he forgot to do, or a surprise. We'll find him.” 

Avi appears at the door of the ball. “Time to go! I'm strapping you guys in now. Hey Angus. You're a smart kid and I want to protect you but I'm afraid I will hurt you with my physical strength because you're so small. Hup.” Avi picks Angus up and hugs him close, carefully, before making sure Magnus and Merle are safe and secure. When the doors close, he blows both of them kisses, which they both tactfully ignore.

 

“5... 4... 3... 2... Goodbye have fun I love you!”

 

The ball launches. It takes a very long time to land.

 

-

 

Sazed wasn't a paranoid man, usually. He knew how to cover his tracks by now. How to spot the rats and the losers, the ones who would sell him out. The ones who would throw him under a bus.

They looked a lot like him.

 

But today is just another day. Today, he has dragged the caravan to yet another podunk one horse town, and the kitchen is deployed, and the oven is cheerfully cooking away. It's raining, heavily. Sazed is stirring a pot of rice and chattering to his audience - which is made up of two old ladies, a couple of unfriendly teenagers and a donkey. The donkey seems the most interested in the show. The teenagers seem to be most excited about the possibility of free food. 

But he continues performing anyway. This is his show. It may not be popular - yet - but it's still young. It's still going. This bitter, uncaring world doesn't appreciate him enough, and he's sick of being _underappreciated_ , but he knows that big break is just around the corner, waiting for him to come and grab it.

Sazed knows that one day, his name will be the stuff of cooking legend.

 

He grits his teeth and stirs with a smile.

 

Someone else tags onto the crowd. At first glance, Sazed stutters in his words because for an instance he thought he saw bronzed, greenish skin, long ears, a long nose - but the face that stares back, rapt, is pale. Very very handsome, very tall, very pale, and watching the show with a fervent concentration that is both unnerving and empowering.

Sazed feels himself perform a few more tricks than usual. A little more ostentatious, a little more chatty. There's something about this stranger that reeks of opportunity.

 

-

 

“Glamour Springs?” 

Magnus and Merle stare at the sign plate for the town in confusion. 

“Why would he come here?” Merle looks around. “It's kind of a dump. Have you ever heard of this place?” 

Magnus looks at the wooden houses, the shops with very ratty finery and produce outside, the cobblestones missing a lot of cobbles and slick with rain. 

“It... it rings a bell. Let's take a look around.” 

A fat butcher watches them pass from under his leaking shop window, chewing something foul and black. Civilians in cloaks hurry through the rain. There are lots of empty houses. They look as if nobody has cared for them in a long time. Magnus frowns.

 

The town eyes them carefully, as strangers. There are eyes watching the back of them as they walk through the town square.

 

“Hey. Look at this.” Merle pats a squat stone obelisk with a list of names carved down the front. “Which war do you think it's a memorial for?”

The obelisk is littered with dead wreathes, and the ground before it is a sodden mess of rotting flowers and unreadable parchment. There is one brand new bundle of meadow flowers on the obelisk. They don't seem to be wilting. 

“Too recent for a war,” Magnus says quietly, reading the top of the obelisk. “Look.”

 

_In Memoriam: the Forty Victimes of the Tragic Poifoning of Glamour Springs._

 

_Life Was Too Taftie Fore Thefe Gentil Soules._

 

“Why would Taako come here?” Merle says, again. A hooded figure stops moving a few feet away. It takes a few steps towards them, feet pattering on the wet stones. Magnus’ hand hovers over Railsplitter. 

The hood comes down. Underneath is a halfling woman, hair streaked with grey, eyes darting between them both. 

“Are you friends of Taako?” 

“No,” says Magnus. “Yes,” says Merle. They look at each other and then back at the woman before both saying, “it's complicated” and “depends”. 

The woman's eyes narrow. “It's fine. You can be honest with me.” 

“We're looking for him. Have you seen him?” Magnus doesn't take his hand off Railsplitter. 

“I'm looking for him too.” She eyes their well kept clothes, their honed weapons - working on the moon for a professional company did have its perks. “Looks like you're getting paid more than me, too.” 

“We're not-” Merle begins, but Magnus steps on his foot and says, “we're getting paid enough. Who are you working for?” 

The woman hesitates. Magnus feels himself passing her perception check, but only by the skin of his teeth. It seems to reassure her, just a little.

 

“I'm Rowena Dale,” she says, “and I work for Glamour Springs. We want Taako dead or alive.”

 

-

 

Sazed finishes his show to scattered, unenthusiastic applause which quickly perks up when he says “samples”. As soon as the teenagers learn that the samples aren't free, however, they immediately leave. He sells two bowls of Homemade Cinnamon Rice Pudding that night. It won't cover the cost of hay for his horses. 

The tall, pale stranger pays for a bowl. Sazed tries not to watch anxiously as they dip a finger in the hot goop and lick it, mulling over the flavour, the texture. There is no reaction. Only a quiet, “hmm”. 

Sazed’s heart rate rockets. There were urban legends of royal taste testers who would travel the land and search for new talent for their rich and mysterious clients. The stranger is wearing soft, luxurious robes that soak the rain up, thick and plush.

The nerves are too much. He closes the kitchen up and takes the washing up out back to clean.

 

As he's scrubbing stubborn rice from the bottom of the pan, the stranger appears around the side of the caravan, head cocked sideways, brown curls falling and framing their pale face. Sazed sweats. The stranger is very attractive. They look too healthy to be poor. 

“Can I help you?” he calls out. 

The stranger replies in an odd lilt. “Maybe. I've seen a lot of travelling circuses out on the road but this is a really original idea. What's it called again?” 

“Spice Things Up with Sazed,” Sazed says, gesturing at the side of the caravan. 

“Oh, right. I didn't see that.” A scatterbrain. Ditzy. Sazed relaxes. He should have known a face that pretty wouldn't be hiding much critical thought behind it. “I have to say... that rice pudding was deeeeelicious.” They draw out every syllable. “And watching you make it was... mesmerising. Like cooking with an old friend.”

 

Sazed preens. Flattery gets you everywhere, doesn't it?

 

“Thank you. Did you just stumble onto my little old show here?” 

“Of sorts.” Sazed feels a leap of hope. “Cooking is sort of a special interest of mine. I like scouting out new ideas, fresh recipes. Raw talent.” Sazed gets goosebumps. Holy shit. His dreams are finally coming true. 

His survival instincts finally kick in. If it's too good to be true, it usually is. He's wary now. Guarded. Can't afford to forget his footsteps, people's faces, places he's been already. 

“Who are you, sorry?” 

The stranger smiles. It's charming. “My name is Tom Bodett.” 

“Were you looking for an autograph, Tom?” 

“Actually,” and the stranger leans up against the caravan wall, fingers walking up and down the canvas slowly, “I was looking more for a drink maybe.”

  
Sazed blinks. It's been a long time since someone asked him for something like that.


	3. congratulations you played yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the tension is getting so thick u could cut it with a knife
> 
> tom bodett is my favourite genderless attractive culinary scout. guy fieri comes a close second. it's 1 am

“State what business you have with Taako,” the halfling woman says.

“You and what army,” says Merle, eyeing her up and snorting. She shakes her head.

“You are currently surrounded by a town that doesn't take kindly to strangers. Not now. If you so much as breath funny, you're going to end up strung out on gallows hill and full of holes. Either cooperate or get the hell out of our town.”

Magnus looks around. The fat butcher from before is holding a meat cleaver and watching them intently. Eyes are peering out of non-derelict houses. Weapons glint in the dark.

Time to crack open that old rustic hospitality. He takes his hand off Railsplitter and opens it before Rowena, ready for a handshake.

“My name is Magnus. We're trying to work out why Taako came to this town earlier today.”

The halfling eyes the hand and ignores it. “So it's true? He really did come through here? There was a witness but - we weren't sure.”

“Well, we- we think he did.” Magnus makes eye contact with the halfling. “But we need to know. Why does Glamour Springs want Taako?”

The halfling remains quiet. Merle raises his hands in a supplicating manner. “Information for information. Tell us what you know, and well... We'll help you out. How does that sound?”

She looks them both in the eyes before gesturing them to follow her into a nearby house, out of the rain. The kitchen is cosy and dry. There are portraits of the woman, a husband and a small boy. There is only one chair in the kitchen.

The woman pulls up a bench for Merle and Magnus and sits down as well, hands clutched together. A peacefire.

“When Taako came through, a few years ago,” she says, “it wasn't for the first time. Would you believe that we used to wait in the streets for him to arrive? Bunting and banners. Tee shirts.” Her fists clench. “I didn't see him that day. I was working the fields. When I came home... when I came home, the streets were in chaos. Bodies strewn all over the square. People everywhere, running from house to house, desperately searching for a remedy, hunched over their loved ones. The ones who died quickest-” she has to look down, before steeling herself “- vomited blood onto the path. It stank. The younger ones took a little longer to die, in beds, in a makeshift infirmary.”

 

Magnus looks at the portraits and back at the halfling. He doesn't need to ask. He knows what losing family looks like. 

 

“We hunted the wagon for days before we found it, abandoned, at the next settlement. Taako was gone. They were both gone.”

Merle frowns. “Both?”

“He had an assistant, a human. He didn't appear during the show - bought hay from us the night before. We believe his name is Sazed.”

 

Magnus and Merle swap glances. “Do you know what Sazed looks like?” Merle asks.

The halfling thinks about it. “Tall-ish, for a human. Curly hair. Big set. Do you know anything about him?”

They both shake their heads. “This is new to us,” Merle says. “Taako kept a lot of secrets from us.”

The halfling nods. “He didn't tell you about Glamour Springs? Well, I expected that.” Now her hands are flat on the table, and she says, “your turn. Who are you and why are you searching for Taako?”

“We are...” Magnus searches for words which won't get staticked out. “Coworkers. Fooor. Kind of like a repo company? Sure, why not. Taako left suddenly without telling us why and now we're trying to find him. He's...”

Merle quickly interjected, “in trouble. He's in big trouble. Let me tell you about the last company Candlenights dinner. Hoo boy! Same old tricks. So we're kind of on the same page here.”

 

Rowena laughs bitterly, shaking her head. “So he hasn't changed. I don't... I just don't understand why. He's... a monster. When they autopsied the bodies... there was enough arsenic in there to kill 100 grown men. They were elderly, and children, and wives and husbands. What kind of person can do that?”

Magnus frowns. “Are you sure it wasn't an accident? Like... he got the ingredients confused?”

She doesn't dignify that question with more than a roll of her eyes. “What can you tell me that will help me find him?”

“He's a flip wizard. Knows Evard's Black Tentacles. Uhhh.” Merle is counting on his fingertips. “Doesn't like elevators. I don't know, he's kind of hard to describe.”

Magnus nods. “He told us. He told us that he'd seen something once. Something that indicated that this wasn't his fault. That was really recent - maybe he came back here to find out more about that?”

Rowena shakes her head again, vigorously. “I wouldn't trust a single word which falls out of that elf’s dirty mouth. If he came back here, it's for nothing good.”

There's a pause. “Sooooo.” Merle pulls on his beard. “What next? How do we find him together?”

Magnus gasps. “Let's split up for clues!”

“What?”

Merle grins at Rowena. “What he means is: we think can help you out.”

 

-

 

The pub is softly lit, Tom Bodett and Sazed are nestled in a secluded corner booth, and Sazed is a little more drunk than he originally intended to be. So is Tom - they laugh loudly and keep knocking the table with their hand, and have already managed to spill a drink over Sazed's knees. 

 

Sazed bites down the slow anger. Tom is too beautiful to snap at. 

 

“God, that really sounds like a raw deal.” Tom is soft and kind. Sazed nods.

“The worst. That asshole was paying me pittance. I basically  _ RAN _ the show and he refused to give me credit. I swept and tidied and cleaned and what did I get? Take the horses north Sazed. Fill up the water tank Sazed. Oh, Sazed, I'm so feeble and weak, I can't change the wheel!” He snorts. “Everyone ate out of his god damn hand. Literally.”

Tom hums. It's music to Sazed's ears. “Wait... What was the name of your old show again? I'm sorry, I'm  _ so _ forgetful.”

Sazed spits. “Sizzle It Up with Taako.”

“Taako, Taako...” Tom gasps. “No. Not the infamous arsenic killer?”

Sazed barks out a laugh. Taako even gets more fame for the crime that he didn't commit. Fucking typical. “You heard about that?”

“What, a hundred people dead in one night?”

“Forty.” Sazed draws his ale nearer. “It was his own fault. He kept getting more and more adventurous with his food magic. I told him... be careful. This isn't safe. I know what the people want - but he wouldn't listen to me. He wouldn't _fucking_ _listen_ to me. He was so overconfident in his own abilities. I don't know what he was thinking - maybe he was trying to show off? Transmuting a whole bottle of arsenic into, what, garlic butter or something?”

Sazed takes a long drink before muttering, “he was a real idiot. A real stupid guy.”

 

There's a comforting hand on his shoulder. Tom says, “he sounds like a real twat. Thank gods you ditched him. What if he tried to pin it on you?”

“Yeah!” Sazed laughs. “I bet he'd fuck that up as well. Guy barely had two brain cells to rub together. He wasn't even that good at cooking!” He hits the table with his palm. “He was the worst cook I've ever tasted, and I've eaten some really terrible cooking, you know?”

Tom laughs. “You were too good for him!”

“I was way too good for him!”

“I wish you could cook me something as good as that rice pudding from earlier. I could eat your cooking all day.” The hand is now walking slowly up and down his arm. “Especially from such a handsome cook. I like a little meat on my bones, if you know what I mean.”

Sazed feels dizzy. “We could... go somewhere private. See what cooking skills you have.”

Tom grins. “Perfect. Let's go to yours and make some good home cooking. And after we're done, you can try eating what my mother made.”

Sazed can hardly dare to ask. “What did your mother make?”

 

Tom's grin widens exponentially. “Me.”

 

-

 

“Sirs?” 

 

Magnus quickly covers his stone of farspeech. “It's another coworker,” he explains quickly to Rowena. “One second - yes Angus?”

Angus doesn't sound like he's crying anymore, but he still sounds worried, and if he sniffles once or twice between words, Magnus doesn't draw attention to it. “The Director unlocked Taako's room for me and I did a comprehensive search. In between all the old clothes and the stolen items - the Director made me confiscate those, I'm sorry - there was evidence of a ritual.”

“What do you mean?” Merle and Rowena are both listening in now. Magnus holds the stone in between them all.

“Some chalk, some magical components... but the most important piece of evidence was right in the centre of the room. It was a polished silver disc. I think it was a very very ornate mirror but when I found it, it was cracked straight through the middle.”

“Where did he get it?”

“It had the Fantasy Costco discount sticker on it. That doesn't prove that he didn't steal it, but it is just an ordinary mirror. I checked the Costco stocks with Mr Garfield. Sirs - I think. I think he was executing a Scrying ritual. And I think he was successful.”

“Scrying? You mean like searching for something?” Merle asks.

“I believe so. I found certain books under his bed too which he must have been studying, books on magical espionage: they must have given him the idea. I think he was using the mirror as a device to see whatever or whoever he was looking for - I'm just not certain what he was actually trying to find.”

“I do,’ Magnus says quickly. “I heard him arguing with Kr- uh, his friend earlier. Wanted him to look for someone specific. Apparently that was illegal for that special friend to do.”

“His boyfriend Kravitz, you mean sir.” Angus says it bluntly.

“I don't accept it!” Merle grouses. “He still hasn't apologised properly for my arm!”

“Ix-nay on the ersonal-pay elationships-ray, Ango. We're kind of. Uhhh. Ith-way someone who wants to ill-kay Aakotay-”

“I can speak fantasy pig Latin,” Rowena says flatly.

“Who is that?” says Angus.

“Okay goodbye Ango!” Magnus hangs up. 

 

“Was that a child?” Rowena is staring at them both. “Does Taako have a son?”

“No. Weeeeell, he won't admit it. Weeeeell. It's complicated.” Merle shrugs. “It's better if you don't question it too much.”

“But-”

“If I were Taako, where would I be?” Magnus mused.

“The cooking shop.”

“No, Merle.”

“Buying clothes.”

“No, Merle.”

“Stealing.”

“No M- actually, maybe.”

 

Rowena interrupts them quickly. “The witness apparently saw him briefly in the town centre before riding north on an improbably beautiful horse. We should go that way. There's a town up there that may have seen him.”

“Then why did he come here at all?” Magnus looks around. “What did the Chalice show him? Why did he need to come back here?”

Rowena blinks. “You just. Made a noise there instead of a word. What-”

“Let's go north. You got any horses?” Merle says.

 

-

 

Sazed fumbles with the lock on his caravan, letting Tom in and lighting some candles. The kitchen is warm and the rain is drumming comfortingly on the canvas roof. It's a sound laden with memory - nights traveling, side by side. Curling together for warmth. Tom slides off his rich plush cloak to reveal a neat lilac tunic, and Sazed's mouth runs dry because isn't purple the colour of royalty? 

 

“I can't believe you just found me out here. I'm in the middle of nowhere. What's someone like you doing in a place like this?”

“Someone like me? What- what do you mean?” Tom's face freezes in a grimace.

Sazed runs a hand over the lilac cloth, as if calming a spooked horse. “It's obvious you're not one of these run-of-the-mill peasants who live in these poor interbred cesspools. The way you hold yourself. Your clothes, your beauty. Be honest with me. What brings you out to a dump like this?”

Tom hides a coy smile behind their hand. “You're right. I knew you were too clever to not see through me. I'll come clean.” They look down, the image of shy trepidation. “I... was following you. I'd heard about you and your show and. Well, I've been looking for you since you passed through a few towns to the south.” Sazed can barely stand up. He pinches himself. He isn't dreaming. “You were a little difficult to track down! I didn't have much to go on, and I had to stay hidden, you know? I don't want people recognising me or who I... work for.” 

 

Sazed whispers, “Tom.”

 

Toms hand rests on his. “Sazed, I came here without knowing what to expect.” That hand now leads Sazed to the wall, pressing him gently against the wooden slats. “And somehow...” 

 

Sazed feels a mysterious but unstoppable force pin him against the wall. 

 

“You met every single expectation. You were a real dream, you know that? I just had to gussy up and you were, how did you put it, eating out of my palm.” Tom's smile is wide, so wide, but it isn't meeting his eyes. “The real beauty of illusion spells is that the victim puts in most of the work. You see what you want to see. So, congratulations. You played yourself.”

And the glamour falls away, and before Sazed is a shorter, long eared long nosed sun elf, with a couple new scars and a few more piercings, but a very very familiar face. 

 

Sazed surges forward. Just as his hands grapple around Taako's neck, there’s the sound and smell of fizzing magic and Sleep suddenly knocks him to the floor.


	4. start chomping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> liiiight gore if that makes u uncomfortable, sazed uses ableist language a lot and also in the next chapter
> 
> everyone swears and is horrible to each other but my two glaswegian dwarf sisters are pure and good
> 
> HERE'S THE SHIT HITTING THE FAN happy 420

It takes them a while to ride into the next town north. 

 

Rowena sits by the driver and stares into the rain intently, not noticing the way it drips through her lashes under her hood. The rain is insidious. It whips Merle and Magnus even inside the shelter of their covered wagon. It’s honestly fucking miserable, especially now it’s beginning to get dark.

Every now and then, Rowena says firmly: “Faster.”

Steam is pouring from the horses’ backs by the time they come to a halt. Rowena throws money at the driver and immediately hops out, not waiting to see if Magnus and Merle follow. Magnus yells, “so this is what it’s like when someone else rushes in” as both he and the cleric chase her through wet, dirty streets. She stops at an intersection and finally faces them.

“I’m going to go ask the guards at the north gate if a horse came through. You two should ask people around town in case he stayed. Try that tavern. I’ll know where you are.” Then she jogs into the quickly falling darkness, heels spitting up mud behind her.

 

Merle immediately rounds on Magnus. “She wants to kill Taako! Why are we helping her!”

“Shhshh, it’s just a ruse so she can help us,” Magnus says. “We just keep playing along and she’ll lead us right to Taako! Listen. Remember - when he came back from the Chalice, he said that this wasn’t his fault and this was the best timeline for Taako, right? He was probably referring to this! This is why he never cooked for us! He thought he had poisoned 40 people!”

Merle shakes his head. “If he killed 40 people, how the hell is this _the best timeline for Taako_? All those people still died whether he did it deliberately or not. And why would he go back to the scene of the crime?”

“Maybe he wants to apologise to Glamour Springs?” They both think about it. Magnus shakes his head. “That doesn’t sound very Taako. Maybe... maybe there was one person he wanted to apologise to. Someone important.”

“Someone he loved very much?” Merle suggests. “He never mentioned them. I guess that’s why he was using the scrying mirror.”

Magnus nods. “He went to find Ren that once, right? Maybe this is another Ren.”

“Sometimes he can be a squooshy guy,” Merle says, also nodding. 

 

They let this sink in for a second. 

 

“Oh gods, ew,” says Magnus, but Merle is already striding ahead to the nearest tavern, yelling behind him:   
“Come on! Let’s go scope some information!”

They enter the haven of warmth and noise that is the nearby tavern, shedding water everywhere onto the damp hay floor. There are some village folk sitting at tables and in booths with mugs of delicious local cider, and the candles flicker in warm welcome. Magnus and Merle shuffle awkwardly over to the bar where a hearty dwarven maiden is cleaning some glasses and sizing them up over the counter. 

 

“Can I help ye, gentlemen?”

“Uh, hail and well met and stuff,” Magnus replies, raising a hand. “We’re looking for a friend of ours. Have you seen an elf, about this tall-” he waves the hand vaguely between his waist and his shoulder, and Merle interrupts quickly with “two feet taller with the hat!”. Magnus continues: “-kind of very fashionable in an awful way, had an umbrella?”

The dwarf maiden purses her lips. “We dinna get many people with that part-i-cu-lar description, I dare say. Not today, anyway. Didnae see anybody like that.”

Magnus’ shoulders fall. “Alright. Thanks anyway-”

“Are you sure?” Merle attempts to lean on the counter in a vaguely intimidating way but the counter is a tad too tall, making him look a little like an over-eager child trying to climb up a table. “Maybe he had a disguise on.”

“Then he could have looked like anybody.” The maiden frowns. “I’m not sure what you’re asking me here. Have I seen literally anybody enter my tavern, is what you’re saying.”

“He may have rode in on an improbably beautiful horse with two horns. Maybe he turned a table into beef.”

“He is also improbably beautiful,” Magnus added quickly. “I can’t see that being an important thing later on, though.”

Magnus and Merle both stare at the camera for a full second before turning back to the maiden, who shrugs in a way which suggests the conversation is over. “You’re describing what is possibly the most recognisable person I have ever heard, and it isnae reminding me of naebody I’ve seen today. Sorry boys. Can I help yis with anything else?”

Magnus sighs. “No thanks.”

Merle casts his gaze at the various drink boards before ordering a halfpint of house scrumpy, which sounds like an illness to Magnus, let alone something to drink halfway through a chase for their friend. They take a booth. The unspoken agreement is that they'll wait for Rowena.

 

“I didn't think Taako was one for going it alone,” Merle says, taking a melancholy swig. “Why wouldn't he invite us with him to help him do... whatever he's doing?”

Magnus shrugs. “He deserves to keep a few things secret. I'm sure there's stuff you don't tell us you're doing.”

“That's different,” Merle says before realising that it isn't, but he said the sentence too confidently to back down now. “Anyway. This place doesn't seem like Taako's groove. Not enough, I don't know, fancy strobe lights and people in high heels. Travelling culture caravans. You know.”

Magnus looks blank. Merle coughs awkwardly. “That's a thing, isn't it. Travelling culture caravans. Fashion merchants and teachers and stuff, right? Exchanging their arts and crafts for a few silvers?”

“Are you talking about door-to-door salesmen?”

“No, Magnus! I mean, well, maybe.”

 

They lapse into silence for a moment. 

 

“Merle,” Magnus says carefully, “talking about travelling caravans... has Taako talked to you much about what he did before he joined the Tres Horny Boys?”

“Not really. Keeps his cards close to his chest.” Merle looks out the tavern door at the rain soaked street. “He...had a show, right? He might have been on a caravan doing his cooking thing.”

“I bet you don't get a lot of travelling cooking shows passing through here.”

“You'd be surprised,” says a dwarven barmaid who looks like a younger, curly haired version of the maiden behind the bar, as she walks past with a few empty mugs. Merle and Magnus both jump in their seats. “Sorry. I was eavesdropping and I accidentally butted in. Bad habit. Youse guys tourists?”

“We're definitely not from round here,” Merle says with a wink. “Is it normal local custom for pretty young girls to interrupt a conversation?”

He says it in a very charming manner, rolling high charisma for once. The barmaid looks bashful but waggles her eyebrows. Magnus looks vaguely ill.

“No, but Helda disnae mind if I get chatty with the customers. That's my sister. I'm Freja. Freja the Bletherer, that's what she calls me. Because ah willnae shut up.” She lets out a hearty guffaw and smacks Magnus on the shoulder, and Merle laughs too, encouraging Magnus to do the same with a significant look.

“Ha ha,” Magnus says, half-heartedly.

“Are youse guys with the other bloke?”

“Other who?” Magnus perks up.

“The one with the caravan. Arrived today I heard. The cooking show?”

The boys swap glances. “No, but we are big fans of the culinary arts,” Merle bluffs quickly. “What was the name of the show?”

“Ah, Spicy Sizzle or something like that. Ah’m not sure. Think they're all packed up for the evening now anyhow, what with this weather driving away all the customers.” She leans in close and whispers salaciously: “Plus, I heard their rice pudding was shite.” She leans back out. “The man in charge came in earlier absolutely hammered with what I assume was his chappy, moaning that naebody here has good taste. Very cheeky, but his partner was veeeery handsome. If you can get 'em like that in the caravans, maybe I should take this tavern job on the road.”

Merle takes a second to process her rapid-fire style of conversation, which seems to treat syllables as a dangerous and volatile commodity that should be crammed into as few seconds as possible to help contain them. Magnus steps in, voice clear and steady.

“Where is this caravan now? We'd like to go see it in the morning.”

“Weeeeell, I don't know if it'll be there long but it's down on the east square I believe. Straight over the bridge and down Sauchie Lane. You cannae miss it. Bright blue thing apparently, all lit up.”

“Freja!” Helda calls from over the bar. “Ah don't pay youse to gossip!”

“You don't pay me at all you tight trollop!” Freja gives them both a saucy smile, rolling her eyes. “Let me know if you need any more drinks. Don't let her put you off, she's aw bark no bite.”

With that, she's gone. The few regulars in the tavern seem to be accustomed to her exuberant and loud personality because they're just grinning at her in a friendly way, but Merle and Magnus start cleaning out their ears.

“Do you think Taako's left us to start his cooking show all over again?” Merle whispers, now slightly more worried about accidental eavesdroppers. “You know, like maybe he misses life out on the road?”

Magnus begins standing up. “I don't know. But I bet that if we go to that caravan we'll be on the right path. Maybe that's the person he was searching for - an old cooking show partner.”

“Never realised that he missed his old life so much,” Merle hummed, also standing up and downing his scrumpy. “Wait, shouldn't we wait for Rowena?”

“Well, she _is_ trying to kill Taako, so maybe not.”

“Yeah. Maybe not.”

With a nod to Helda and Freja, Merle and Magnus step out into the rain.

 

-

 

Waking up is hard, like pulling himself out of thick treacle. His eyes are gummed shut and his limbs feel sluggish and clumsy, but he drags himself back into consciousness kicking and screaming.

Well, Sazed is attempting to kick, but it's mainly just pathetic writhing, and his screams are more like annoyed grunts. His hands and legs are tied together. The knots are tight. 

 

“Good morning, Sazed,” Taako says, and he appears to be seated cross legged on the floor in front of Sazed with what looks like a flat plate of four lilac macarons. “Long time no see, huh? I was surprised you took the caravan so close to good old Glamour Springs considering what happened last time.”

 

Sazed calculates his options. He always knew, in the back of his mind, that Taako could find out. That Taako could try and find him. He coughs away the last of the Sleep.

“You have some nerve showing up here. They want you dancing on a rope for what you did.”

Taako nods in reply. “You're not wrong. Well, about them wanting me dead. But that's not the issue here, is it Sazed?”

Sazed tries to look puzzled. He feels like his bluff is standing fairly firm. “Why are you here? Are you going to kill me too, as well as all those people?”

“That was tragic,” Taako concedes. “It really messed me up for a while there. You were always right, you know. I couldn't carry a show by myself. I'm not a strong enough cook. I'm not a very good cook at all.” He gestures to the macarons. “But I've been practicing. Gods, over and over again. Not the chicken, I fucking hate chicken, but little stuff like this. French fancies. Biscotti. And tonight, Sazed, you have the grand honour of being one of the very few people to try my new and improved macarons. You always were the expert between us, so hit me up with some of that crunchy concrit.”

Sazed stares at the macarons. They all look identical, soft lilac tops and what looks like delicate, thick white cream, dusted by white icing sugar.

“Oh. They're all different flavours, by the way. A real effort on my behalf to impress you here, so you better appreciate it. There's a strawberry daiquiri one, a matcha green tea one, a hazelnut coffee one and,” Taako grins widely, “an elderberry syrup one.”

Sazed freezes. “You poisoned them.”

“What? No. The only thing I did to them was transmute the little bottles of flavours into what I needed when I was making the different doughs. They're perfectly safe.” He pauses. “Well, the first three are, so you can cross that off the worry list. But you know... elderberry is just my weakness, isn't it. And I got so darn nervous making these. And wouldn't you know it, I forgot to keep track of which one was which.” Taako looks contrite, picking at his shiny gold nail polish with a sad sigh. “Since there's a one in four chance that eating a macaron will maybe probably kill you, definitely... well, you only have to eat three.”

“You're crazy if you think I'm going to eat any of them.” Sazed barks out an incredulous laugh, staring down Taako, utterly offended that somehow he'd been overpowered by this miserable runt. “You've gone off the fucking deep end. Stick your macarons where the sun doesn't shine.”

 

Taako reveals a battered old umbrella that looks like it was once owned by somebody's colour-blind grandma. For a hot second, Sazed is sure that he's going to get beaten with it, but then the tip whirls round and points at his face.

“Darling,” Taako begins, “when you knew me, I had about two cantrips and maybe half a spell slot. Take a mental note here  _ bucko _ because that particular fact has changed significantly, and let me tell you, I am so excited to show you all the new stuff I've learnt. For starters, here's a little ditty I like to call... Blight.”

 

A wave of nausea washes over Sazed. Something, some feeling, crawls up his limbs like pins and needles or like cold water seeping up his skin. Even as he watches, the tips of his fingertips turn an unhealthy dark tinge, a putrid shiny black, and the smell of putrefaction and over ripe meat makes him gag.

His skin is pruning slowly. His mouth feels full of gunk.

“Stop it,” he says, gagging at the foul, unhealthy taste on his tongue.

“Eat the macarons.”

“Rot in hell.”

“One of us is rotting for sure.” Taako leans back on his umbrella and admires the view of Sazed, eyes wide, gasping for breath. “Huh, big boy. Careful now. I'm not sure you've got 8d8 hit points in you.” 

 

He caves when the blisters start bursting open on his fingers, staring at Taako and saying “I'll eat the fucking things, just stop it, you bastard”, and like that, the spell stops.

“On the bright side, each macaron will give you a few health points back when you eat it, right?” Taako muses. “Unless you pick the wrong one. Hey, this is fun!”

Sazed just spits black gunk on the floor, never losing eye contact with Taako, who gently picks up the plate and spins it in the air artfully.

“Welcome to the wheel of fortune! Which tasty tasty snack do you want to try first?” He spins it in front of Sazed but just out of reach. “Say when.”

Sazed says nothing. Taako huffs and holds the plate with one hand, still spinning, hitting Sazed gently across the head with his umbrella with his spare hand. “I said say when.”

 

“When.”

 

The plate stops. Taako picks up the macaron nearest Sazed and holds it to his mouth, tenderly, as if he were sharing food on an intimate date. With his other hand, the umbrella is aimed directly between Sazed's eyes. A white light starts growing at the tip.

“I suggest you start chomping before this magic missile charges completely,” he says. Sazed says, “fuck you,” before leaning forward and taking a small bite from the macaron - except Taako jostles his hand so a small bite becomes the entire thing.

“Chew,” says Taako. The magic missile glows brighter. Sazed can see the sharp shape forming in the glow, a deadly icicle of light. He chews and swallows.

 

“Coffee,” he spits out, taking a deep breath, and Taako lazily raises the umbrella just in time so that the missile pierces the ceiling of the caravan and flies out through the canvas roof.

“Lucky boy! One down, two to go. Take another spin!”

Taako spins the plate, and aims another magic missile at Sazed's head. Sazed, coughing on dry crumbs, says “You have to run out of spell slots eventually.”

“But think of how nasty things can get before I run dry,” Taako replies, laughing a little. 

 

“When.”

 

The plate stops spinning. Taako lets the missile once again fly through the ceiling. 

 

-

 

“Did you see that?”

“See what?” says Merle, who had rolled a bad perception check and was therefore looking in the wrong direction entirely.

“That flash. It shot up into the sky.” Magnus and Merle are walking fairly urgently across the small town, and now they can see a sign for Sauchie Lane. “It looked kind of like...” 

Magnus gasps. “A shooting star!”

Merle looks up at the sky and immediately curses as his glasses get coated in raindrops. “I'll take your word for it. Where did it come from?”

“The ground. Maybe they're practicing some dramatic lighting?”

“I can do a quick check...?”

“No. Let's keep going.”


	5. catching up on good times, good memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> last chapter!! sazed says some nasty stuff, things reach peak violence, taako gets a bad review for his tasty macarons. macarones? aw fuck if i've been spelling the plural of macaron wrong this whole time.....   
> i've been spelling it macawrong. 
> 
> anyway thanks for the kudos and the comments my dudes <3 should i do anything else like this or nahhh?

“Strawberry,” chokes Sazed, in a mixture of relief and nausea, his mouth full.

“Super lucky!” Taako says. “Lucky that you get to taste my new improved cooking. Since I was so awful before. Do you have any constructive criticism?”

“Here's some constructive criticism,” Sazed says lowly. “Why don't you go fuck yourself?”

Taako makes a face. “Did I really used to find that kind of saucy wit cute? Real spicy content, real flavoursome.”

“You’re getting a real kick out of this.” Sazed expels the remaining macaron crumbs in his mouth and stares, eyes thunderous, up and down Taako. “You've got some fancy spells and suddenly you're showboating and simpering like a prize court jester.” He smirks. “Just like the old days. You thought you were the hot shit back then too. But we both know who was doing all the real work, don't we.”

Taako twirls his umbrella. There's a line in the skin between his brows. “You're being pretty mouthy for a dude trussed up like a Candlenights turkey.”

“I can see through the act that you put on for those other idiots, for the show. I could always see through it. You dressed up real nice today, but in the end, you're still the same. The same dumb blond elf who acts up for  _ attention _ .”

 

There's a beat of silence.

 

“You can't handle it.” Sazed knows what comes next. He's gradually getting control over the situation. “Look at me. I'm the one on the road now. It's my name on the wagon. When people think of me, they think of my home made rice pudding. When people think of you, they only think of that tragic incident where you killed forty people with a chicken. You know what they said to me in Glamour Springs when I rolled my show through?” He laughs. “They said sorry that I had to be so close to you for so long. They said they wanted you dead.”

“Get that name out your mouth,” Taako snaps, finger pointing at Sazed, ears pinning back to the sides of his head. “You don't deserve to- you've got no right-” 

He kicks the caravan wall, before his shoulders slump and the energy seems to leave him.

“God, what am I doing.” His ears droop. “What am I really doing here. Taking out my frustration on some fuckwit I used to know? I guess.” He slouches further. “I guess I'm jealous of you after all. That cooking show was one of the best things that I ever did, you know. The, the the fame, the fans. The whole showing off aspect... and I can't do that anymore. But you can. And I guess it drove me wild.”

 

There's another moment of silence. Taako picks up the plate again and faces Sazed, but this time he doesn't spin. He just wheels the plate around so that one of the macarons is in front of Sazed's mouth. 

 

“It's this one. This is the matcha one. The other one is the elderberry one.”

 

Sazed sighs. Taako did like to take a masquerade long past its sell-by date. He says, “when” and Taako lifts up the matcha macaron, basically cramming it into Sazed's mouth like the game isn't fun anymore and he just wants it to be over, before turning away, playing with the hem of his pointy hat. Sazed chews thoughtfully, smugly, before swallowing.

 

“C'mon Taako, untie me. It's getting-” he begins, before the taste on his tongue registers. He's not familiar with matcha but he does know elderberry, and the taste on his tongue is far too familiar.

Somewhere, the coin of god has been flipped, and Sazed is on the wrong face.

“Taako,” he says. “This isn't funny,” he says.

 

Taako starts shaking. Sazed realises it's from laughter. 

 

“You're so fucking easy to zag on,” Taako says, voice breathy with amusement. “Of course I'm not fucking jealous! This is the best possible timeline for Taako! Look at me!” He strikes a deadly pose. “I'm a kickass wizard and I work for like, fantasy Men in Black. I've saved this miserable little world like 5 times already at least! I'm dating Death himself! Cooking shows are like, small potatoes now.  _ Look _ at me!”

Sazed starts coughing violently, trying to force himself to vomit, but without his hands all he can do is cough futilely. “You've gone fucking insane, holy shit, give me the antidote, call a fucking doctor. What have you put in this macaron! You wouldn't kill me!”

“Babycakes, I watched forty people writhe in pain and cough up blood before my very eyes.” Taako stands up taller now, staring down at Sazed, pushing at Sazed's chest with his foot. “Watching you get that experience first hand is going to be absolutely _delicious_.”

 

Sazed starts breathing hard. There's a pain in his temple and the nausea he's been feeling since the first macaron has doubled unpleasantly. “What was in that macaron?”

“Let me answer that question with another question.” Taako tilts his head. “Really, Sazed? Arsenic?”

Sazed breathes out. “What are you talking about-”

“Don't even try it hombre. I saw you. I've seen things you wouldn't believe, and coincidentally, you can't believe, because I can't tell you. I saw you hiding in the back wagon shivering like a shitting chihuahua.”

“Please, Taako, give me the antidote. Give me a healing potion.” Sazed writhes. “I’m- I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I framed you.”

“You don't need to tell me that,” Taako says. “I want you to tell Glamour Springs that.”

“What?”

“I, Taako Ambiguous Last Name, want you, Sazed Also Ambiguous, to march into the centre of Glamour Springs and tell them exactly what happened on the last episode of Sizzle It Up With Taako. Then, I give you a healing potion so dank it'll add years to your life, probably.”

 

Sazed gasps. “That's suicide. They'll tear me apart.”

 

“Then here's the second option.” Taako squats down. “I let you die here. I watch you shit yourself to death and then, I make you disappear. Not just your body. That's easy. I'm talking about all of _this_.” He waves up and down Sazed's body. “The memory of you. Nobody will remember that you were ever even born, not your relatives nor anybody who ever met you or ever heard of your little show or even saw you on the street. And yes, I'll be remembered as a murderer but you won't even get a headstone. You'll get nothing. You'll get _erased_.”

“Bullshit.” Sazed holds down a cramp of stomach pain to speak clearly. “Not possible.”

“No? Alright, how about a magic trick? What does the tattoo on your hip say?”

 

Sazed frowns. “I don't have a tattoo on my right hip.”

 

“You do. You just don't remember.” Taako lifts up Sazed's shirt to reveal some faded black words, which for some reason, due to complicated lettering or maybe Sazed's blurring eyesight, are impossible to read. He drops the shirt again. “What does it say?”

“It- it-” Sazed thinks hard but there's nothing there, nothing but buzzing static. “It was something to do with my home town. A slogan we came up with. My old curling team.” He wracks his brains. “I knew it so well but I don't- remember-”

“That's right. You don't remember.” Taako uncovers the tattoo again. Sazed's exposed belly rumbles ominously. “You can't even read it, can you? I _erased_ it. That was _me_. _That was all Taako_. I can do that now. I can make things never have been. Isn't that fucking _wild_?”

“This doesn’t- this doesn't make any sense-” 

Sazed feels his emotions swelling for reasons he can't really identify when he thinks about that tattoo. He knows it's significant. He knows it's important to him and some people he really loved. But the phrase - the key that would unlock the memory like a puzzle box - remains a mystery to him.

“I know!” Taako raises his hands as if exasperated. “I know it doesn't make any sense. But that's kind of my _life_ now!” He claps his hands back together. “So, is that what you want? Because I can happily turn you into a tippexed anecdote that only I will know ever existed. As a great musician once said to me, are you really okay with being completely written out of... well, everything?”

 

Sazed curls up on the floor. He thinks about life before this mess, life during this mess. His show. It had finally been gathering steam - well, somewhat. He thinks about the few people in his upbringing who are still alive. He thinks about Lavinia. He thinks about Harold.

 

“No,” he chokes out. “I'll do it. I'll tell Glamour Springs. Just... don't erase me.” He turns to the floor. “I guess I can't stand the idea of you stealing my fame even when I'm dead.”

“Excellent!” Taako casts levitate on Sazed's still bound body. “Let's go right now-”

 

Magnus bursts through the door, quickly followed by Merle. “Taako? Are you-”

When Merle catches sight of the bound, sweaty man hovering in tight ropes, his eyebrows shoot up into his scalp. “Woof. Jesus, Taako. Are we interrupting something here?”

While Magnus mimes vomiting, Taako shakes his head. “Not at all, boys. We were just finishing up. This gentleman has something to say, doesn't he?”

Sazed says nothing as he slowly rotates in mid air. A bead of sweat rolls down his extremely unhealthy new complexion.

“Taako... what's going on?” Magnus looks very disconcerted. “Is this something to do with the Chalice? Who is this guy?”

“This is my old coworker. My old buddy old pal who helped me run my show, you know that old thing? Sizzle It Up? We're catching up on good times, good memories.” Taako laughs. “Until he killed my audience in a fit of jealousy and abandoned me.”

 

Magnus blinks. “... what?”

 

Merle steps forward, placing a hand on Sazed to stop him spinning and saving them all the second hand motion sickness. “What's wrong with him? He looks terrible,” to which Magnus quickly quips “and healthwise he doesn't look too good either!”.

Taako now does look genuinely tired, but he summons a content smirk and pats Sazed's head. “All will be revealed. We just have to take this bad boy to Glamour Springs and set up a little- hrk.”

 

His sentence ends abruptly with a groan. From his chest, deeply embedded and beginning to bleed dark red into his shirt, is a crossbow bolt. Merle and Magnus whip around and there in the doorway to the caravan, soaked to the bone by the rain and clearly crying her eyes out, is Rowena holding a crossbow. She quickly reloads it and points it at Taako again.

 

Taako drops to his knees. It was a critical hit. The sudden drop in hit points makes him dizzy.

“Well, shit,” he mutters.

 

“I knew it,” Rowena breathes, crossbow pointing from Magnus to Merle to Taako as soon as any one of them moves. The deadly point of it twitches and jerks. “I  _ knew _ you were friends with him. I knew you'd lead me right to him.” Her hands are shaking. “So many years of hunting the bastard who killed my family and you lead me right to him.”

“Oh gods, please help me!” Sazed desperately makes eye contact with her. “He's trying to frame me! He wants me to pretend that I killed Glamour Springs! He made me eat a poisoned macaron, please, I need medical attention!”

“You lying little snake!” Taako yells, but again is cut off by a thunk. There's another arrow in his chest. Rowena's eyes widen, as if she hadn't realised that she had actually pressed the trigger.

 

“Taako!” Merle makes to move forward and help him as he slumps further to the ground, but Rowena points the crossbow at him and cautiously walks over to where Sazed and Taako are.

“You... you...” 

She seems lost for words, grimacing with some kind of internal, emotional pain. “You just _left_. Their names were Morty and Robert. Morty would be 12 now. Robert was kind, and quiet, and very gentle. He loved sitting under the old tree in the back and holding Morty and teaching him all about life back in the South, and they were both beautiful. They were so beautiful.” She wipes her nose with her free hand, quaking but never moving the bolt's aim from Taako's head.

 

Taako does a quick mental calculation. He doesn't have enough hit points to weather another point blank critical hit.

He coughs up blood.

 

“Wait,” he says quickly, but Rowena shakes her head and interrupts him.

“I've had enough waiting. I've waited too long to find you.”

“You've got the wrong person!”

“What?” She laughs nervously and incredulously. “Are you really going to pretend you're not Taako, from Sizzle It Up? I have an entire town full of witnesses who can swear under oath they saw you-”

“I didn't poison them. He did.” Taako jerks his head at Sazed. “He used arsenic. I thought I had accidentally transmuted elderberries into- into deadly nightshade, I thought I'd killed them too, but it was that shithead.”

“He's crazy,” Sazed quickly interjects. “He's trying to worm his way out of it. He knows he's guilty!”

“The Chalice,” Taako coughs. “It showed me- Merle, Magnus, you have to believe me. He killed them. I didn't do shit.”

 

Sazed blinks like he's trying to clear water from his ears - a common side effect in the uninoculated - but Rowena ignores the burst of static and keeps aiming at Taako. “You ran away. You watched them die and you ran away. That's not what an innocent man does.”

“I was afraid,” Taako says quietly. “I... I knew I'd be hanged. I really thought I had done it. I thought it was a stupid accident, I thought I had made a mistake and I didn't know how to face it. But it wasn't me.”

“Rowena,” Magnus says carefully, voice cracking slightly, “he's telling the truth. I can't tell you how we know that, but we do. And I know how you feel. Trust me, I know how you feel. I lost my family too.” Rowena flinches. “I lost it to a coward and a bastard. I know how much you want vengeance, how much you need to see some kind of justice for the people you lost - but Taako didn't kill Glamour Springs. You have to slow down, just for a moment.”

“He's right.” Merle steps in front of the crossbow, blocking Taako from any more damage. “Rowena, think about it. The autopsy said the townsfolk died of arsenic, didn't it.”

“Yes,” whispers Rowena.

“But Taako  thought he had transmuted _elderberry_ into deadly nightshade. That doesn't make sense. Maybe he didn't transmute it. Maybe this dude _did_ poison the food.”

Rowena’s hands are still shaking, still determined. She looks at Sazed.

“I remember you. You bought hay from us.”

“I did?” Sazed shrugs it off, and sweat drops onto the floor. “I was his groupie, I had to look after the horses. Why would I kill a bunch of people for no reason?”

“It wasn't for no reason,” Taako says. “You were jealous.”

“He's lying!” Rowena cries. “Why should I believe him!”

Merle looks at the floor, before raising his eyes to the ceiling and uttering a quick prayer.  “Rowena,” he says, reaching out to her, ignoring the crossbow aimed at his chest, “listen to me. I'm a man of the cloth. You can trust me.” He flashes his Teen Bible at her, expression soft and compassionate. “Don't rush into this. You want to make sure you've got the right man. You don't want to kill the wrong person, do you?”

Rowena shakes her head uncertainly. 

“Then I'm going to step away from Taako-” Taako says “fuck no, meat shield, stay the fuck here in front of me” but Merle ignores him “- to let you make that final decision, okay? But you got to make sure it's the right decision.”

 

Merle steps away from Taako. Rowena's grip tightens on her crossbow. 

“I- I-” Rowena’s voice shakes. “I spent so long thinking about doing this. I imagined hundreds of ways of avenging my family on you. I couldn't imagine anything else when I went to sleep at night. All I wanted was to track you down and make you pay.” She blinks away tears. “I've never killed someone before, in cold blood like this.”

“Don't do it, Rowena,” Magnus says. “Turn him in to the authorities. We can have a proper trial. Like we're supposed to.”

Merle nods. “You're not a killer. And I don't mean to be presumptuous but - would your family really want you to be?”

Rowena doesn't respond. 

Taako looks at the floor, eyes clenched shut. Well, at least he'd be seeing Kravitz sooner than expected, probably, and he's never going to complain about that, but actual mortal death seems like kind of a boner. A bad, bummed out boner. Kind of an existential cry-wank.

“Okay,” Rowena says, and points her gun to the floor. Everyone lets out a breath, aside from Sazed, who starts spinning slowly upside down as he wriggles harder against his bonds. He looks even worse than before.

 

Merle heals Taako - while getting mercilessly ribbed for it, of course - and some of the blood flow stops at the two holes in Taako's chest. They can't really do much for the bolts without an actual doctor around, so Magnus lets Taako hang off him like a big buff walking stick. Merle goes to heal Sazed, looking at Taako for guidance. 

“I need him alive to make a confession,” Taako says, patting Sazed on the ass as he spins around languidly. “Ain't that right, pumpernickel.”

“I'll do it, _I'll do it,_ just please _heal_ me.” There's a line of dribble down Sazed's chin. “I'm going to pass out at any moment.” His voice is hoarse and unhealthy.

The three boys exit the caravan into the open air, and the rain is beginning to lessen a little, though it's still fucking miserable. Magnus supporting Taako, Merle pulling Sazed along by the ankle, and Rowena following behind, looking shellshocked. 

“I don't get it,” Merle says conversationally to Sazed as he uses him as a human umbrella, “why'd you do it? Why would you poison all those people? If you wanted to sabotage Taako's career, you could have just given them all strong laxatives.”

Sazed swears, but sighs, too weak to struggle anymore. “I wanted to raze his career to the fucking ground. Do you have any fucking idea how humiliating it is to keep getting pushed into the sidelines while someone else gets all the glory?” He spits. “You don't deserve this, Taako. I knew you well enough on the road and you're exactly the same as me. You would have done the same thing. You and I both love those bright lights, don't we?” 

Taako shrugs from Magnus’ arm.

“No, I know you.” Sazed glares at his bloodied back. “You're every bit the poisonous bastard I am. That's why we got along so well. And you ran, didn't you? You didn't stick around for a trial.” He curses again. “We both know that the real reason you came back to get me isn't because of the forty victims, is it. It's because I ruined your show. You couldn't care less about them. The most important person in your life is you. Don't pretend this is some noble quest for justice, this is your ego-”

“Does he ever shut up?” Magnus interrupts.

“Not when you get him started. He goes _on_ and _on_ like a verbal Möbius strip. Kid has lungs for  _ days _ .” Taako waves his hand vaguely. “Merle, fix him up a little, he just ingested enough deadly nightshade to kill a horse.”

“Looks a little moth-eaten too.” Merle manages to deadpan a sentence for the first time since Taako's known him. “I didn't know nightshade did so much necrotic damage.”

Taako just waves his hand again. He knows what's up.

“It doesn't matter if I go to court,” Sazed rambles, delirious from pain, bobbing gently in the rain. “Nobody's going to believe you. It's just your word versus mine, and inbred, stupid country bumpkins can be so _stubborn_ -”

There's a thunk. Sazed stops talking and slumps, lifeless in mid air, as the last of his hit points siphon away forever, blood spurting from his chest around the metal tip of a bolt. Somewhere, fantasy Imogen Heap feels a chill go down her spine. After this, things seem to happen in bullet time.

Merle swears loudly. Rowena lowers her crossbow and stares at the corpse. She blinks rapidly.

Taako turns round, his eyes widening and a “no” forming on his mouth. 

With a faint pop, a scar opens up in the fabric of reality and a very, very handsome skeleton walks through, catching a rising ball of light neatly with its bony hand. It looks around as if noticing its surroundings for the first time, and shakes its head, managing to give off a completely exasperated air despite having no means to convey facial expression. 

“Well,” it says in an awful impression of a fantasy Cockney accent, “really, I would have been more surprised to  _ not _ find you three here.”

-

“These are very grave offences.” 

The Director’s face is hard as flint. Taako cringes away a little at the cold set of her mouth, the lines deep in her skin.

“Unauthorised use of the Voidfish. Unauthorised use of company transportation. The malicious enchantment of an employee. The risk of breaking cover on the surface, and the risk of transmitting a potential intelligence breach that would have cost us maybe even years trying to fix.”

Taako is not alone in the office. Merle and Magnus wouldn't let him get lectured by himself. But even together - and they have done many things together in the past, climbed impossible heights, taken deadly blows, entered the eye of the storm, stared death in the face and laughed - even together, the stone cold disapproval and disappointment that radiates from the Director in waves cows them all.

“And on a vengeance mission. A  _ vengeance _ mission, Taako. An entirely personal and very dangerous mission that abuses,  _ ridicules _ the power that this organisation has given you. Not to mention the possibility,” and here the Director sighs heavily, still evidently furious, “that you could have been seriously hurt.”

Taako looks down at his bandages around his chest and then back up at the Director.

“ _ More _ seriously hurt.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I don't authorise solo missions very often. Even the best operative needs someone to watch their back. But you.” Taako seems to melt further into the chair as she continues. “You held yourself above the rules. You thought you knew better than the careful, sensible procedure that we have laid in place so that wild excursions into the night don't end up with someone getting killed.”

Merle waits a second before tentatively saying, “at least it was only one person this time, which statistically, is pretty stellar against our average death rate per excursion.”

“Yeah,” Magnus agrees. “And it wasn't like we were gambling a powerful weapon or an artefact or whatever. It was just one guy.”

“It's alright, fellas.” Taako adjusts his hat and brushes down his skirt, voice low and apathetic. “I goofed this one pretty bad. I'll take this one for the team, it's okay.”

“You're a grown ass adult, Taako,” the Director says sternly. “I'm not going to send you to the naughty step or stop you from having pudding. But you  _ cannot _ do this again. I cannot begin to express my disappointment and my anger that you would undertake something so dangerous and foolish behind my back. We're supposed to be able to trust each other, boys.” Her eyes flick steadily between all three of them. “Don't break that trust.”

“We’ll keep you in the loop,” Taako wearily says with a couple of dopey finger guns, and the Director startles and blinks at him as if seeing him for the first time.

“Wh- what? Oh. Right.” She gestures to the door. “You're dismissed. Oh, wait- Taako, someone is waiting to see you outside. That's all.”

-

As soon as Taako sets foot outside the door, a small figure hesitantly approaches him before barrelling into him at full speed. 

Merle rolls his eyes and Magnus groans, but neither of them sound all that serious.

“You're getting my knees a little soggy there, Agnes,” Taako says, but his hand still comes down to rest in the small boy's hair and tousle it gently.

“Mister- Mister Taako, I'm sorry, I know it's silly b-but I thought you had r-r-run away for good-” Angus buries his head in Taako's skirt and stops talking to cry, and Taako sighs, and crouches down to use his skirt to wipe away snot and tears. “I- I- I found the mirror in your room and I was afraid you were going to find your real family.”

“Oh, Agnes.” Taako almost smiles fondly, but hides it behind his hand as a cough. “This is the closest thing to a real family I've got.”

Merle and Magnus look at Taako in shock at this unexpected honesty, before respectfully averting their gazes as the young boy hugs him tight. If Magnus sniffles a little, Merle pretends not to notice. And if Merle’s bottom lip wobbles, then that's his business. 

Angus finally leans back. “I know everything. I heard what happened-”

“Of course you did,” Taako says flatly.

“- and... Taako, I'm sorry your friend died. And that he betrayed you.”

“He wasn't really a friend. He was just kind of there.” With a blank expression, Taako stares into the middle distance, that same line forming between his brows. "And now he's gone for good."

“Now that he's dead, how are you going to convince Glamour Springs that you're innocent?”

Taako hums, before shrugging. “I'm never going back there again. I'm kind of a no-regrets guy, you know? Don't cross the same bridge twice, never stand in the same stream more than once, you know, that whole dealio.”

Angus pauses, then whispers, “that wasn't why you went down, was it.” It isn't posed as a question.

Taako shakes his head. “Well... it was meant to be a happy side effect from the main event. And that last one worked out better than expected.”

There's a perplexed frown on Angus' face. “Are you satisfied?”

“I'm not going to lie. I did some bad things down there Ango, and I really enjoyed them.  But the ending didn't go so great. And it was kind of an all round bad idea. And I didn't mean to scare you.” He blinks slowly, his ears twitching. “But I don't regret doing it.”

“I know,” Angus replies, bringing up his hands to Taako's cheeks and patting them gently. He isn't crying anymore. “Sir, I know something else too.”

“What's that, boychik?”

Angus looks up at Merle and Magnus before leaning in to whisper into Taako's ear, in an unsubtle and deadly serious child's whisper behind his tiny cupped hand: “I snooped in the kitchen and I didn't find any nightshade, but I did find some perfectly digestible and delicious elderberry syrup, and some extremely strong laxatives.”

Taako leans back and winks at Angus despite his very tired expression. “Keep zagging on 'em, Agnes. First rule in the book.”

-

It's an unhealthy time in the morning and Merle is woken up once again by noises he can't identify. He puts on his tartan slippers, waddles out of his room and into their shared mess room.

Magnus is in the corner carving a delicate decorated plate.

“Can't sleep?” Merle asks, putting a kettle on to boil them both some sweet herbal tea.

“Nope.”

“Right.”

The kettle boils, filling the room with a companionable burble. When it whistles, Merle pours out two steaming cups and takes a seat by Magnus, placing the other cup by his foot.

“Tea?”

“I'm keeping my hands busy.”

“Right. It's there if you want it.”

“Thanks.”

Magnus keeps carving. The floor is littered with fragrant slivers of wood. Merle listens to the sound of carving, the scraping and the patter of Magnus’ skilled hands. 

“Where's Taako?” Merle looks around. “We could turn this into a real party.”

“He went to bed just before you came in.” Magnus sets the plate down and picks up the mug. “Took Angus back to his room first.”

“You hear what he said about family?”

“Yeah.”

They both take a long sip of tea.

“He keeps it quiet.” Merle chuckles quietly. “But he's tender deep down. Deep. _Deep_ down. He kept that whole... Sazed thing really quiet, huh.”

“I don't think he thought about it a lot before.” Magnus looks away, down at his plate. “The Chalice probably kickstarted the idea for revenge. Before that, he thought he was a murderer.”

“Gods. Do you think he was better off not knowing the truth, or knowing it and getting revenge?”

“You can't ask that. It happened. He wouldn't be better off either way. He was stuck between living with the guilt of forty people, or going mad knowing it was someone else's fault.” Magnus laughs hollowly. “Asking if you'd rather stay afraid of what you might have done, or afraid of what you might do... that sucks. That just sucks. It all just sucks.”

“Hey. Hey. Woah.” Merle pats Magnus’ arm. “You don't have to talk about it but. If there's something bothering you... and I can help...”

Magnus shakes his head. “What Rowena said. It just. Hit real close.” He puts the mug down and puts his head in his hands. “Her anger and her hurt was... it was too much. It made me think I- it makes me feel so guilty and so, so selfish but sometimes I wish I could just. Forget.” 

He shakes his head again. “Not the good parts. But the other stuff. But then I don't want _that_ either. I don't want to forget _anything_. It's already so confusing-”

He clams up, like he's said too much.

Merle knows he doesn't have the correct words to comfort Magnus. Maybe nobody does. What he does instead is keep his hand on Magnus’ arm. The hum of the moonbase as it slowly slowly travels the sky of Faerûn is a comforting white noise. To Merle, it feels as if the dark sky is holding its breath. 


End file.
